


A Little Firework

by i_eat_men_like_air



Category: The Terror (TV 2018), The Terror - Dan Simmons
Genre: (And Trans Author), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Body Worship, Flirting, Hand Holding during Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mirror Foreplay, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Semi-Clothed Sex, Service Top Henry Collins, Sweet Gentle Boys Who Love Each Other, Trans!Goodsir, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 03:40:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30049341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_eat_men_like_air/pseuds/i_eat_men_like_air
Summary: They had been at the meeting for the British Naturalist’s Association for most of the evening - a twice-yearly affair that seemed to be designed as an excuse for a lot of incredibly intelligent, excitable folk to get together, drink heavily, and chat about their most recent theories and discoveries - and Henry had been watching Harry closely throughout it all; barely registering anyone outside of his line of sight.
Relationships: Henry Foster Collins/Harry D. S. Goodsir
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	A Little Firework

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marrownuke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marrownuke/gifts).



> A sweet (and filthy, definitely filthy) little bit of smut for Nuke! Just lovely guys bein' dudes!

Harry always seemed to sparkle when he was in company. It wasn’t so much that he was loud, or gregarious, and he didn’t talk at length as so many of his colleagues did, but there was something about the small, slender scientist that made him entirely captivating. 

Maybe it was the way his eyes lit up as he spoke, or how his hands would fly through the air to illustrate his words; maybe it was the curls that fell ever so slightly over his spectacles when he bounced on the balls of his feet. Henry couldn’t say, but he had spent the entire evening simply staring at his partner with a slightly dazed, soppy expression. 

Harry hadn’t seemed to notice, thankfully (Henry wasn’t sure if he could bear the teasing little winks the man so often sent his way at these get-togethers), so Henry allowed himself the indulgence, tracing his eyes over the soft, slim form that bounced in front of him, sipping his wine and chattering brightly about some kind of crustacean-related topic that flew right over Henry’s head.

He loved listening to Harry talk, even when he wasn’t sure what was happening; Harry’s voice was enough to make him grin like a lovesick teenager, a sweet and sibilant sound. 

They had been at the meeting for the British Naturalist’s Association for most of the evening - a twice-yearly affair that seemed to be designed as an excuse for a lot of incredibly intelligent, excitable folk to get together, drink heavily, and chat about their most recent theories and discoveries - and Henry had been watching Harry closely throughout it all; barely registering anyone outside of his line of sight. Harry looked so terribly handsome, dressed neatly in what he called his ‘best suit’; deep blue, pressed neatly, with a lovely little waistcoat and a ridiculous crab print tie that Henry had given him for Christmas a few years ago (as a joke!); Henry had mentioned that maybe the tie ruined the effect of the suit, but Harry had shaken his head primly and said it was the ‘key’ to the whole ensemble, so Henry had, of course, given in immediately (he couldn’t, and wouldn’t, deny the man a thing if he could help it). 

‘You’re staring, darling,’ Harry’s voice broke through his reverie, and Henry blinked down at the smaller man, shaking himself back to a world not entirely occupied by thoughts of his partner, ‘see something you like?’

Henry shook his head fondly, stroking Harry’s face with the pad of his thumb, ‘Maybe I do, love, you’re perfect like this y’know; like a little firework,’ he felt himself blush a little, and sighed quietly as Harry reached up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

‘It’s the tie, isn’t it?’ he grinned up at Henry, ‘I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.’

Henry chuckled, wrapping his arm around Harry and resting his head on those soft, sweet-smelling curls, ‘You’ve found me out, love, can’t resist a novelty tie, me. ‘Specially not on such a handsome chap.’

Harry swatted him on the stomach, gently, and wrapped his arm around Henry, ‘Well, dear Henry, I’ll have you know that  _ I _ can’t resist a big, handsome man in a tight-fitting suit, and you’re doing a wonderful impression of one.’

‘You’re being daft.’

‘Perhaps, but I also happen to have absolutely impeccable taste, and your backside is driving me up the wall, darling,’ Harry smiled up at him, pleasantly, as if he were discussing the weather, ‘could I interest you in getting out of here, so you can ravish me in private? I shudder to think how everyone here would react to you rogering me over the drinks table.’

Henry snorted, squeezing Harry tightly against his chest, ‘You’ve got me convinced, there, doctor, say your goodbyes to this lot and I’ll grab our coats. I reckon it’s time to head home.’

* * *

The taxi ride home was quiet. Harry lounged against Henry’s chest, soft with the tiny amount of wine he’d had at the party, murmuring how much he enjoyed the look of Henry in his suit. Henry wiggled awkwardly, trying his best not to make eye contact with the taxi driver; he didn’t feel particularly at home in his suit - it was a touch too tight, and the fabric pressed uncomfortably into his armpits and his crotch. 

Particularly his crotch, come to think of it, as they got closer to home. Harry was talking up a sweet, rambling storm against Henry, and Henry felt his prick begin to twitch in his trousers as his partner spoke. He stared at the floor of the taxi, trying not to focus on the warm, wriggling man who was all but sitting on his lap by the time the taxi reached their building.

Henry paid the driver with an apologetic grin, and held out his hand to Harry, who grabbed it cheerfully before linking arms with Henry and squeezing his bicep with a giggle, ‘ _ Ooh _ you’re so terribly  _ strong _ , darling, such big arms! And such a big -  _ mmph _ !’

Henry clapped a hand over his mouth and slammed the taxi door behind him, waving frantically at the driver, who didn’t seem bothered in the slightest.

‘Harry, I love you dearly, but you’re a menace,’ Henry chuckled, nudging the smaller man forwards with his hip, towards the door of their building. 

Harry twirled around, a faux-scandalised expression covering his handsome, sweetly pink face, ‘Oh how could you say such a thing, Henry, I didn’t say a word!’

‘That’s because I covered your mouth you daft man,’ Henry shoved him through the main door with a chuckle, and led him quickly to the door of their flat, unlocking it and heaving him through before he had a chance to reply.

‘Oof, you brute!’ Harry giggled, wrapping his arms around Henry’s neck, leaning up on tiptoes and peppering his cheeks with wet little kisses, ‘ _ mmm _ , but you’re such a big, handsome brute, so I think I’ll forgive you.’

‘Very kind of you, doctor,’ Harry flicked on the lights and laughed, softly, as Harry began to nuzzle into his neck, ‘now are you going to let me take you to bed, or am I going to have to carry you?’

Harry exhaled sharply at that, pulling back a little so Henry could see the glint in his eyes, ‘Oh now that  _ would _ be a shame, dearest.’

Henry tilted his head to one side - watching Harry carefully, staying as still as he could manage - before lunging forwards and hefting Harry up with a grunt, tossing him over his shoulder into a fireman’s lift. 

‘ _ Henry! _ ’ Harry squealed, kicking his legs weakly against Henry’s stomach, giggling hysterically as Henry carried him to their bedroom and chucked him onto the bed with a broad grin. 

‘Henry  _ you _ are the menace! Tossing me around like a sack of potatoes!’

‘At least the potatoes would be quieter, sweetheart,’ Henry kicked off his shoes, and hopped onto the bed beside Harry, smothering his protests with a kiss, wrapping his arms around the smaller man and pulling him on top of him, laughing as Harry’s spectacles pressed against his nose.

Harry kicked off his own shoes, and wriggled, fruitlessly, before simply melting into the kiss; moaning softly into Henry’s mouth, parting his lips and sucking sweetly on Henry’s tongue as they moved against one another. Henry groaned in turn as Harry straddled his waist and ground down on his prick - now at a thick, solid half-mast in those frustratingly tight trousers.

‘Harry,  _ Harry! _ ’ Henry grunted as Harry began to rub up against him at speed, dragging their mouths apart with a shudder, ‘will you -  _ oi  _ \- will you take that bloody suit off before I tear it off you?’

Harry grinned, sweet and innocent, blinking down at Henry, sticking his bottom lip out in a ridiculous pout, ‘You mean you won’t do it for me, darling?’

Henry sighed dramatically, shaking his head with a laugh as he flipped them over, now bracketing Harry’s body with his own.

‘I think I can manage that, my love.’

He set to work unbuttoning the suit, carefully thumbing the buttons through their eyes and peeling away the jacket, then the waistcoat, then taking off his spectacles and setting them on the bedside table, before gesturing at the shirt with a tilt of his head.

‘Take it off, Henry, take it off,’ Harry breathed, arching his back as Henry rubbed his big, broad hands over his slender chest and stomach.

‘Of course, my love,’ Henry kissed him gently, pulling the ridiculous tie over his head and unbuttoning the shirt carefully, exposing inch upon delicious inch of soft skin and thick, dark hair, ‘my beautiful, handsome, perfect Harry.’

Harry’s breath quickened a little at the praise, and he writhed sweetly as Henry began to kiss across his chest; mouthing softly at the sharpness of his collarbones, nibbling gently at the dip of his clavicle, enjoying the musky taste of his skin as he finished unbuttoning the shirt. Henry lifted Harry up to pull it off, and tossed it onto the chair by the bed, not stopping his meditative exploration of Harry’s chest; kissing, licking, sucking at the skin, nuzzling happily at the sweaty hair of his chest, nibbling gently at his nipples (Harry had no sensation there, but Henry enjoyed the feel of them in his mouth nevertheless). 

‘A  _ menace _ , Henry, you’re an absolute menace,’ Harry breathed above him, gasping at Henry sucked a mark into the skin over his breastbone.

‘Your menace, love, always yours,’ Henry mumbled against Harry’s chest, reaching down and fumbling around until he had undone both his and Harry’s trousers - groaning at the release from that near-painful pressure. 

He began to kiss down a little lower, nipping at the soft, lightly furred skin of Harry’s stomach, nosing at the gentle swell of it, sticking his tongue in his belly-button, much to Harry’s giggling annoyance, ‘Don’t  _ do  _ that you  _ beast!’  _

Henry grinned. He would happily spend the rest of his life with his face against Harry’s abdomen: resting his head against his ribs to listen for the rapid  _ thud _ of his heartbeat; pressing soft, wet kisses to the scars that ran horizontal under his chest; rubbing his beard over them just enough to render Harry a gasping, twitching mess.

‘You’re so perfect, love, just perfect,’ Henry mumbled, snuffling along the musky curls above the line of Harry’s underpants.

Harry whimpered, softly, as Henry lifted up his hips under one arm, tugging his pants and trousers down with one well-practiced motion.

‘There you are, love,’ Henry breathed out, grinning down at Harry and kissing him firmly, pressing their tongues together and shuddering as Harry reached both hands around his back and grabbed his arse.

‘And there  _ you  _ are, darling,  _ oh  _ -’ Harry’s head fell back onto the mattress as Henry rolled his hips, pressing his still-covered prick against the heat of his cunt, ‘ _ oh  _ take your bloody trousers off, Henry, stop being so - _ ah -  _ so  _ daft _ .’

The mock-sternness of Harry’s instructions was ruined a little as Henry pressed his thick, calloused fingers either side of his prick, and his voice jumped up an octave, but Henry did as he was told nonetheless. He rubbed softly at Harry’s prick for a moment, enjoying the soft, slick sounds - he was dripping already - before pulling away and yanking off his own trousers and pants, and pulling off his jacket and tie for good measure.

‘Leave the shirt on!’ Harry gasped, looking up at Henry with lust-darkened eyes, ‘unbutton it a little but leave it on,  _ please _ .’

Henry shrugged, grinning fondly, and undid a few of the buttons on the shirt until his chest and stomach were decently exposed, ‘Like that?’

Harry nodded, reaching up to Henry and beckoning him back onto the bed, breathing out a ‘ _ Perfect _ ,’ as Henry settled on top of him. Henry groaned, long and low, as he felt his prick rub over Harry’s cunt and prick - achingly hot between his legs. He allowed himself a couple of strokes, rubbing their pricks together and drawing sweet, hiccuping gasps out of Harry as he moved, before he drew back onto his haunches with a soppy, lopsided smile.

Harry was stretched out on the bed, his hands resting above his head, sharp collar bones framing the flat of his chest and the soft curve of his hips and belly; closed eyes fluttering open at Henry watched him.

‘You’re not just going to sit there all night, are you darling?’ Harry panted, thrusting his hips up towards Henry’s prick where it hung - thick, heavy, drooling already - between his legs, ‘you see I’m rather worked up, down here, and I’d quite like you to fuck me.’

Henry shook his head fondly, pressing a wide palm to the centre of Harry’s hips and holding him still, ‘Would you now, love?’ he pressed his free hand to the slick of Harry’s cunt, circling the opening slowly, ‘I think I can manage that,’ he paused, pressing his thumb gently against Harry’s prick, ‘let me look after you?’

Harry nodded, eyes wide and begging, curls falling into a soft, dark halo around his lovely, angular face, ‘ _ Yes, darling _ .’

Henry exhaled with a smile, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and pulling him into his lap; he weighed next to nothing, and manoeuvering him like this sent an arc of hot, possessive desire through Henry. 

Harry wiggled gently in his lap, arse furred and warm against Henry’s prick, and Henry pressed firmly on his hips to keep him still; he’d come all over himself if Harry kept that up. Harry’s gaze floated over Henry’s head, staring at something behind him - curious, focussed. Henry tilted his head back, and raised his eyebrows with a grin. Harry had a habit of leaving the wardrobe door open and, as luck would have it, there was a mirror (running the full length of the door) on the inside of it - now positioned perfectly for Harry to see himself.

‘Like what you see, love?’ Henry rumbled, stroking Harry’s thighs gently.

‘I don’t know…’ Harry’s voice was light, almost shy, in reply, ‘I think I do…’

Henry smiled up at him, moving his hands closer together, ever so slowly, until they reached either side of Harry’s cunt, leaking and hot against his pubic bone. He pulled the folds apart with his thumbs, exposing Harry’s hard, twitching prick where it sat among those dark, sweet curls.

‘ _ I _ like what I see, love, I like it an awful lot,’ Henry spoke, quietly, and brushed the pad of his thumb over the tip of Harry’s prick, smiling happily as Harry jerked into the touch, ‘let’s see if I can’t bring you ‘round to my point of view properly, hm?’

Henry settled down, eyes focussed on the mirror behind his head, and pressed his middle finger against Harry’s cunt, teasing gently until it sank softly into impossibly slick, clenching heat. Harry whimpered softly, thrusting onto Henry’s finger, his brow furrowing slightly as he moved his hips.

‘Touch yourself for me, love, and don’t close your eyes - I want you to see how we look, yeah?’ Henry murmured, crooking his finger and rubbing firmly over that soft, spongy spot at the front of Harry’s cunt.

Harry looked down at him, his eyes wide, a small, shy, sweet smile on his face, and nodded, ‘I’ll try my best,’ he leaned down over Henry, and kissed him softly before straightening up and fixing his gaze on the mirror, meeting Henry’s eyes in the reflection with a mischievous grin.

Henry grinned back at him, and pressed another finger inside his cunt with a sigh. Harry’s fingertips brushed over his knuckles as he began to stroke his prick, teasing either side of it and grinding himself down onto Henry’s fingers with a whimper.

Henry groaned as Harry’s arse brushed against his prick again; he steadied himself, quickly, focussing all of his attention on Harry for now, rubbing softly over his G-spot and working him open. He knew it would take a little preparation for Harry to be able to take him - it always did. He wasn’t above average in length - not really - but his dick was almost as thick as a bloody beer can, and regardless of how eager Harry was to be filled up, he always made sure to work him open with his fingers (and usually with his tongue, too) first. 

He fucked Harry slowly on his fingers, soaking up the wet, twitching heat that swallowed them up; losing himself to the slick push and pull, to the feeling of Harry clenching down on him, to the brush of Harry’s fingers over his own as he tugged at his prick. 

Harry’s eyes were still fixed on the mirror, heated, bright with desire, as he stared at where their hands met. He whined loudly as Henry carefully added another finger, continuing his work, stretching him open; making a show of scissoring his fingers and playing with the rim of Harry’s cunt with his thumb, teasing at the taught, slick skin with a lazy smile. 

Henry grunted as Harry thrust back against his prick, pressing it into the crevice of his arse and rolling his hips slowly; sighing sweetly, then yelping in surprise as Henry pressed harder onto his G-spot, distracting him from his unauthorised quest to grind against Henry’s prick. 

Henry grinned happily, watching Harry’s movements quicken in the mirror, the tips of his fingers dancing over the tip of his prick, pulling back the hood over it and flickering against the pink, hyper-sensitive flesh beneath. Harry whimpered, bucking his hips, fucking himself soundly onto Henry’s fingers, thighs straining with the effort of staying upright. 

Henry watched, wide-eyed, awestruck, utterly captivated, as Harry came. His lover’s eyes rolled back in his head and his entire sweet, small body went rigid above him, a gush of slick coating Henry’s stomach as he fucked into him; gasping, twitching, whimpering so sweetly that Henry thought he might weep. Harry’s eyes were still wide open, now fixed on his reflection, mouth hanging open as well as he whimpered his way beautifully through his release. 

Henry’s hips thrust up against him - reflexive, searching for friction - his prick rubbing up against his arse and the small of his back as Harry twitched and shuddered, his body softly falling forward and going limp against Henry’s chest as his orgasm subsided. 

Henry pulled his fingers gently from Harry’s cunt, and wrapped his arms around him, pressing him against his chest and breathing into his hair. Harry was panting against him, shaking and twitching, and Henry stroked his back gently - long, firm strokes - soothing him until his muscles settled and his breath began to even. Henry felt his heart clench as he held Harry in his arms, kissing the top of his head sweetly; he had never considered that he might feel so strongly for another person; that he might feel a swoop in his stomach every time he even looked at him, let alone touched him. He had never felt anything like it, and yet here he was, with the love of his life breathing softly against his chest, gentle hands resting over his heart.

‘I can hear you thinking, darling Henry,’ Harry whispered, resting his chin on his hands and looking up at Henry, ‘tell me what it is?’

Henry leaned up and kissed him, softly, ‘Just that I love you, is all; that I’m lucky to have you,’ he felt himself flush at the sincerity of his voice, and gasped softly as Harry crushed their lips together with a high, sweet whimper.

‘I think I’m the lucky one, actually, and I love  _ you _ , more than anything in the world,’ Harry whispered, pressing firm, open-mouthed kisses down Henry’s neck until he found his nipples, biting gently at the sensitive peaks.

Harry continued downwards, pulling gently at the copious amount of hair that covered Henry’s chest and stomach. Henry gasped as Harry tugged at his pubic hair, thrusting up into the sweet, twitching soreness, and groaning as his prick brushed against Harry’s wrist.

Henry looked down, meeting Harry’s eyes and propping himself up on his elbows, ‘See something you like?’ he murmured, breathlessly.

Harry grinned up at him before lowering his eyes to his prick; he took a hold of it with a gentle, barely-there fist, and Henry bucked up against it with a groan. 

‘Maybe I do, love,’ Harry chuckled, rolling the foreskin gently over the tip of Henry’s cock and massaging it carefully between slender fingers.

Henry shivered, his hips jerking up at Harry palmed over his crown with a fascinated smile, ‘You get so wet, you know, it’s amazing.’

Henry felt his face flush, letting his head fall back as Harry slowly, certainly stroked his prick, curious hands working carefully over throbbing, sensitive flesh. He could feel his pulse, fast and dull, thudding between his legs, and he groaned as Harry’s thumb rubbed firmly over his slit. 

‘ _ Fascinating _ …’ Harry whispered, and Henry forced himself to look down, blinking as Harry played gently with the steady, thick stream of precum that was leaking from his cock. He would do this sometimes; becoming entirely fixated on Henry’s slit and the sheer amount of slick that drooled from it. Henry had been embarrassed at first, not sure what his lover had been up to, but it turned out that Harry simply found it interesting (as he found so much of Henry interesting), and Henry would never deny him his interests - not for anything in the world. 

‘ _ Harry _ …’ Henry shuddered, roughly, as Harry pressed firmly at his frenulum, ‘ _ Harry…’ _

Harry, blinking in surprise, looked up with a dazed expression on his face. Henry knew it well; it was the look his lover had when he was interrupted midway through a task, a look of mild confusion and disorientation. He wished he could let him continue, but  _ God above _ ; his prick felt like it was about to explode, and he desperately wanted to be inside Harry before it did.

He was more than happy to beg, but Harry’s expression immediately settled into a satisfied, happy grin as he looked at Henry.

‘Sorry,’ he murmured, sheepishly, looking up at Henry through his eyelashes, ‘I got a little carried away…’

Henry sat up and cupped Harry’s face, kissing him steadily, pouring himself into his mouth, ‘It’s okay, love, you know it is, only, uh…well,’ Henry gestured at his prick with a sheepish expression, and Harry laughed sweetly. 

‘Oh, I’m sorry!’ Harry grinned, a mischievous glint in his soft, dark eyes, ‘did you need something?’

Henry huffed, shaking his head, chuckling gently, ‘You’re going to kill me, love.’

‘Oh but what a way to go!  _ Imagine… _ ’ Harry wrapped his arms around Henry, pulling him down until Henry was on top of him, ‘come on then, get to work, Mr. Collins, doctor’s orders.’

Henry kissed him, softly, huffing out a laugh as Harry wriggled against him, cunt brushing over the pulsing glans of his prick. He laced their fingers together gently, pressing Harry’s hands against the bed, and angling his hips carefully so his prick was lined up.

‘Ready, love?’ Henry whispered, resting his forehead against Harry’s.

‘Ready, darling,’ Harry replied, rubbing a thumb over the back of Henry’s hand with a smile, ‘fuck me.’

Henry gritted his teeth as he pushed - slowly, slowly, aching, shuddering - inside Harry. Harry opened his mouth and let out a high, keening whimper as Henry’s prick stretched him out, his hips trembling as Henry pressed into his cunt, inch by sweetly burning inch, until he bottomed out with a growl. 

Harry was perfect, always so perfect, and the feeling of him twitching around his prick was almost unbearably so. Bright, shaking pleasure lanced through him, curling up at the base of the spine like some fiery beast, coiled and ready to strike. He rested his head in the crook of Harry’s neck, breathing heavily, as he began to move.

Henry rolled his hips gently, grinding his hips against Harry’s prick, letting his cunt acclimatise to the intrusion. It was a tortuously sweet process, working Harry open, and it was only when Harry whimpered beneath him - whispering sweet, broken encouragement; soft, rambling endearments - that Henry began to fuck into him in earnest. 

Harry let out a yell, jerking up against his chest, as Henry fucked him; slick, wet sounds filling their bedroom, Henry’s prick leaking - filthy and wet - into Harry’s eager, dripping cunt, stretching him impossibly. Henry pulled out slowly with a shuddering sigh, leaving only the tip of his prick inside the clutching warmth of Harry’s cunt until Harry was jerking his hips upwards, trying desperately to fuck himself onto him.

He sucked a mark onto Harry’s shoulder as he slammed back in, holding his hands down tightly - palm to sweaty palm - as he repeated the motion time and time again, working Harry into a shaking, shuddering, sweetly sobbing mess beneath him. 

Henry could feel that beast at the base of his spine unfolding, snaking forwards, and he released one of Harry’s hands so he could bring him off again. He groaned as he felt the filthy, sticky mess between their legs, balling his hand into a fist and slotting Harry’s cock between his knuckles, tugging gently at him - breathing heavily into his shoulder, whispering sickly sweet praise, as he worked - teasing at his prick until Harry thrust up against him with a choked out scream, his back arching beautifully against Henry as he came for the second time that evening, his release shaking through him, cunt clamping down on Henry’s prick like a white-hot, velvet vice. 

Henry growled against his shoulder as he stroked him through it, feeling his bollocks tighten as Harry’s cunt twitched and fluttered around his cock. He wouldn’t finish yet, not yet, but God it was so wet, so unbearably hot, and the pressure was starting to make his head fuzzy as he thrust wildly into Harry.

Harry whimpered, body now limp and pliant beneath Henry, his cunt impossibly, obscenely wet and open, swallowing his curse of a prick down with ease. Henry buried his head in Harry’s neck, breathing in the scent of his sweat, his cologne, the salty-hot musk of their bodies mingling together. 

Harry shivered as he returned slowly to himself, and he reached down; pulling their hands together again, tangling their fingers together, looking up at Henry with adoring, shining doe-eyes, smiling so sweetly that Henry felt he might die.

‘I love you, Harry, I love you - I love you - I love you - oh  _ God  _ \- Harry,  _ Harry _ …’ Henry whimpered, chanting Harry’s name as a desperate, shining mantra through the haze of lust that was quickly filling him from head to toe. 

‘ _I love you,_ darling Henry - _God_ , I love you - I love you, Henry - _I love you_ …’ Harry breathed against his ear, voice shaking and sweet, nuzzling against Henry as he spoke, ‘come on my cunt Henry - please - _please -_ on me, Henry, _please_ \- it’s alright, darling - darling Henry - _please_ …’

Henry groaned at Harry’s words, and his entire body shuddered hotly as his release began to build and crash over him. He pulled his prick out as quickly as he dared, jerking it in his hand until his orgasm arched up his spine, sharp and hazy by turns, achingly perfect, blinding fireworks filling his eyes. He pressed his prick to the opening of Harry’s cunt as he came, pushing his spend against him, inside him; soft, pink folds now painted with white, hot seed as Harry whispered sweet, nonsensical encouragement. 

Henry whimpered, quietly, squeezing Harry’s hands where they lay above his head, pressing hot, messy kisses to his face and his neck. Harry exhaled softly as Henry reached between them, playing with the slick, filthy mess between his legs and licking it up from his fingertips.

He cleaned the mess from himself with a satisfied moan, before moving to cup Harry’s face gently, carding thick, hot fingers through his hair and his beard, kissing him soundly. Henry lost himself in Harry’s mouth, moaning low in his chest as he licked and sucked the sweat from his lips until Harry was giggling and writhing under him.

‘ _ Ah _ ! I love you so much, darling, so much, but  _ Christ _ that  _ tickles _ ,’ Harry giggled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around the tree trunk of Henry’s waist, beaming up at him.

Harry placed a peck on the tip of his nose, and Henry chuckled, bashfully, ‘Sorry Harry,’ he murmured, ‘I got a little carried away, is all, you taste nice.’

Harry laughed quietly, then yelping as Henry rolled them over and pulled Harry against his chest, holding him tightly and inhaling the sweet shampoo-sweat scent of his hair. 

He couldn’t tell how much time had passed when he heard Harry whisper something under his breath.

‘What’s that, love?’ Henry murmured, stroking Harry’s hair away from his face, looking down at him curiously.

‘Hm?’ Harry looked up at him, ‘ _ oh! _ Oh, I was just wondering, did you see where my tie went? Only -  _ Henry! _ ’ he yelped as Henry swatted him with a pillow and started smacking him with it repeatedly until both men were weak with light, floating laughter. 

‘That bloody tie!’ Henry wheezed, flopping back on the bed with a wide, crooked grin, ‘I wish I’d never got you it!’

‘I’d ask you not to be so rude about my favourite tie, darling.’

‘Favourite tie, my arse.’

‘I do love your arse as well, Henry, but I’m trying to find my tie.’

Henry swatted him again, shaking his head and laughing softly, watching Harry fondly as the little man began to shuffle around the room on his knees, looking for the accursed thing. Later, he would be glad to point it out to him (it was under the chair with his suit on), but for now, he was more than happy just to lie back - peaceful, satisfied, his heart full to bursting - and watch him search. 

**Author's Note:**

> Harry's genitals are referred to as prick, cock, cunt, and opening; he has had top surgery and has body and facial hair.  
> Minor apologies to the real-life BNA, but you were the first UK-based naturalist society I found.


End file.
